Lestrade's bet
by TaliaLion234
Summary: Lestrade makes a bet about Sherlock and John. What happens when he's losing? Same story as my old account, sherlocklovesjohn, but edited severely. Please Read and Review!


Lestrade sighed. How dense is Sherlock really? Everyone knows how he feels about John, and how John feels about him, you just had to look at them and see. For a genius, Sherlock Holmes was as dense as could be.

That being said, John Watson is equally as dense. But that's to be expected. John was straight for his entire life, it'd take a lot for him to realize he's not as straight as he thought. But Sherlock, oh, Sherlock on the other hand...

Which is why he and the boys had all placed bets. Bets on who would crack first and jump the other. Each boy decided John would crack, and placed money on that. Lestrade, on the other hand was smart. He placed quite a large sum on Sherlock. Why? Well not only would John need a lot more than a gentle push, since he's far too oblivious The man has only ever dated women his life. It'd take more than a gentle push to get him to realize.

Sherlock on the other hand was probably well aware of his feelings.

But right now, it had seemed that John would crack first. Which would not be good for him. He needed to find a way to get Sherlock to crack. Without thinking, he invited the detective down to his office. After making sure the boys (and Donovan) were out, of course.

When the tall dark haired detective arrived, Lestrade smiled nervously. Sherlock had sat down in his usual chair, and gestured to lestrade to begin. damn bloody cocky SOB, Lestrade thought.

The detective spoke first. "I assume you called me down here not for a case, but for a discussion of some sorts which judging by how we are the only 2 in the station, it must be a matter of discretion. However, I am curious to hear your explanation, so explain. Oh, and how much was the bet for?" he grinned cockily.

Lestrade was speechless for a moment. regaining his composure, and said "500 pounds."

"Ah, now the question is, what for?"

Before Sherlock could say something, Lestrade blurted out, "You love John Watson!"

For a split second, Sherlock's cool and aloof mask was shattered and a look of surprise and confusion spread across his face. He quickly masked it again, but it had been there.

"How did you know?" Sherlock whispered nervously.

"Sherlock, you may be a mask of hiding your expressions, but one just needs to look at you to be able to tell. that and, you didn't deny it." Lestrade grinned.

Sherlock swore under his breath. "So this is what the bet was about. who would confess."

"Technically it'd be who cracks first and jumps the other..."

"And you placed in favor of me?"

"Sherlock, you've met the doctor. AKA the most oblivious person on the planet."

"So you called me down here, sent your entire force out, just to tell me what I clearly already know, and to ask if i'd jump John? Lestrade, you have lost whatever sanity you had left." Sherlock made to leave. "you can tell Mycroft that I know he bet 2000 in favor of John."

"How did you know Mycroft was in on this?"

He made a pfft sound. "You underestimate me, Lestrade." Sherlock turned toward him. "Oh, and I'll see to it that you win and Mycroft loses."

He left in a dramatic swishing of his coat, leaving Lestrade shaking his head. That man would do anything to show up his brother.

Little did he know his boys (and Sally) were finished with the work, and had stopped to pay the doctor a little visit.

0o0o0o0o0o

John heard a knock at the door. Groaning, (his leg was hurting him again) he made his way to the door. He opened it to find Anderson grinning at him. John sighed, and moved aside to let him in. Soon the whole police force trampeded in after. Groaning, John shut the door and walked back. He sat in his chair, and found Anderson grinning even more crazily than before.

"What do you want, Anderson?" John asked. "Why have you brought the whole bloody police force into my home?"

"You love Sherlock." Anderson grinned.

John sighed again. "If that is all you came here for, I suggest you leave. I do not love Sherlock, and furthermore, what was the bid and how much?"

Anderson was taken aback. "Well we all here bid 50 each in favor that you'd crack and jump Sherlock. Mycrofteven bet in your favor with 2000. However. Lestrade bet in Sherlock's favor with 500. John, it's not so much the money, but we really wanna see him lose..."

"So you burst into my flat, the entire police force, just to ask me if I'd jump Sherlock? You've lost it, Anderson. Now please leave, my leg is driving me crazy."

Anderson looked like a kicked puppy. Sally jumped in. "John, you can't hide from your feelings forever. You know that, right?" She asked the last part gently. "Sorry for the intrusion. Boys, let's go."

After they left, John found himself thinking about Sherlock. Thought about his tall, lanky figure, his pale porcelain skin, his cold and calculating gray eyes, and his dark mop of wayward curls. His cheekbones, impossibly high set. How he would lay down his life for him. How he was Sherkock's only friend. The more he thought, the clearer his answer was. He jumped up, grabbed a coat, and ran to the police station, ignoring his limp.

He burst in the doors and called out "Sherlock?" Everyone turned toward him. Lestrade told him he had left for Baker street. John ran out the door and back to Baker street.

When he arrived, he called out Sherlock's name again. Hearing no answer, he assumed he wasn't there. That is, until a pair of arms wrapped themselves from behind. John whirled around to see his flatmate standing there looking... well he couldn't really tell. Not the usual Sherlock. Sherlock's cold greay eyes were... warmer... and loving almost? John was actually confused until Sherlock spoke.

"Um, erm, John, I was just speaking with Lestrade, and um, well..." The detective was blushing a brilliant red, and staring down at the floor. He was shifting uncomfortably, before turning and running out the door, leaving a very bewildered John behind.

What was that? Sherlock thought to himself. He was supposed to tell John. But somehow he couldn't. The man had looked at him with those beautiful tawny/hazel eyes and Sherlock's mind went blank. Watson had that affect on him. That small, muscular compact body, always clad in jumpers. That mousy/blonde hair that shimmered like gold in the sunlight. Those oh, so expressive eyes. How ever so expressively tawny/hazel that sparkled with laughter. He couldn't think. He stuttered like a fool then ran. He was at Molly's house, sitting on her couch. Dear Molly, she had the kindness to let him in and the good sense not to ask.

Suddenly, his phone beeped. He looked at it, it was a text from Lestrade. Great. He grabbed his coat and yelled to Molly 'Thank you but I'm leaving now' He hailed a taxi and rode in an uneasy silence to New Scotland Yard. Usually John would be in the seat next to him, and they'd be talking. But no John, and the silence was screaming at him too loudly.

He gasped a sigh of relief when he arrived. He paid the cabbie, then bustled through the doors. John was waiting for him, ready to take on the next case. Sherlock felt his heart skip a beat. Crap, what was that about? He forced his mind to focus on the case at hand.

Afterwards (the case had been solved in a matter of hours-the little girl's brother had killed the mother) the little girl from the case was sitting with them, solemnly drinking a cup of tea. Anderson had made some comment about how the girl was cute, and Sherlock was quick to correct him. Sherlock wasn't too fond of children on a good day. "No, Anderson, Koalas are cute. Parameciums are cute. John is cute. This little girl is not." Sherlock realizing what he just said, blushed again, a bright fire engine red.

John whispered, "What"

"You- erm-ah-" Sherlock felt himself being drawn toward John, and John was being drawn toward him. "John, erm, ack-" he was cut off by John who had put his head close to his and whispered in his ear "You're cute too Sherlock."

"Really?" Sherlock asked, incredulous. He didn't wait for John to answer before leaning in and brushing his lips against his. God, it was so good. He felt himself melting into the other man.

John's eyes widened in surprise. Sherlock, the man he loved was kissing him. he opened his mouth slightly and Sherlock took advantage of the opportunity.

Sherlock rather liked this, kissing this man. The kiss took on a life of it's own, desperate and clinging, trying to make up for what they hadn't done earlier. Sherlock's hand moved to cup John's chin, and the other placed on the other man's hip, drawing him closer. John's hands were tangled and playing in Sherlock's curls.

"Ahem." Anderson cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly.

Both Sherlock and John flipped him the bird, at the same time, never brealing their lip-lock.

Eventually they pulled apart. He looked into Sherlock's gray eyes and sa them lidded, filled with warmth and... lust.

Sherlock gazed into John's eyes and clearly saw the desire in them. This man wanted him. And he was happy to oblige him. He pulled John to Anderson's desk where they both sat on it, and suddenly Sherlock pounced on the shorter man, pinning him, and kissing him wildly. Anderson started to say something about how that was HIS desk, but everyone wildly shushed him.

Lestrade smiled. He knew it would be Sherlock. Always Sherlock to slip up. He smiled even bigger as everyone handed him their bets. A man in a dark suit even handed him a check for 2000, obviously from Mycroft. He looked to the new couple, both had worked their way out of their shirts and were kissing passionatley. He smiled and led everyone out of the room for privacy. 


End file.
